


A Life in Picnics

by sere727



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rumbelle - Freeform, Rumbelle Secret Santa 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 20:44:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sere727/pseuds/sere727
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt for the Rumbelle Secret Santa 2012: Belle wants to go on a picnic.</p>
<p>Picnics have alwasy been important in Belle's life, they are what has shown her happiness, kept her sane, and hopefully she will one day be able to claim her happily ever after at a picnic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Life in Picnics

                                          A Life in Picnics

 

Belle earliest memory is of her mother’s tinkling laugh as her father wrapped his arms around her; the softness of the cotton blanket under her small hands and the delicious smells wafting from the mini feast that Cook had whipped up for their impromptu picnic. It is one of the best memories she has of her mother; she can still feel herself being lifted up, her mother skirts a whirl of blue velvet below as they spun. She can still taste the sweetness of her mother’s honeycakes that they had gorged themselves on before they had even eaten their proper lunch. She thinks of the fond expression on her father’s face as he watched them propped against one of the many trees in the little grove. It seemed like they were there only minutes, though the darkness had begun to creep onto the edge of their blanket.

Belle remembers a lone guard approaching her father.

There was urgency in his step and fear in his eyes.

After she and her mother were immediately gathered up and sequestered in the castle, but it didn’t seem to matter for the long tendrils of the sweating sickness reached far and wide even climbing the walls of the castle.

 Belle could only watch as they curled around her mother. Slowly sapping away at her strength, her body seeming to sink further in the bed as the days went on.

Then her father was beside her mother’s bed, tears streaming down his face, his hand clutching her limp body. Belle was not sure what had happened but she knew that the person on that bed was no longer her mother. Belle slammed her eyes shut, her little hands reaching up to cover her ears. She thought back to that day in the grove and tried desperately to drown her father’s cries out with the memory of her mother’s tinkling laughter, to replace the face on the bed with the face of the woman who spun her round and round. Belle held on desperately to this memory knowing it was the last true one she had left of her mother.

***

Rumpelstiltskin wrinkled his nose as he walked into the cavernous kitchen the stench of burning meat almost overwhelming him. Belle desperately tried to shove the ruined ham back into the smoking stove, but she had no such luck; for when she tried to shut the door she found she could not, his magic blocking her. She gave a long suffering sigh and stepped aside.

This is how it had been for the last two months that she had been in the castle, he would always come down before dinner time to check on her progress and more often it would be to find her latest attempt merrily smoking away. She had, after all, been a noblewoman; trained in the ways of running a household and the proper etiquette of the court, not the exact specifics of cooking and the cleaning. So Rumpelstiltskin had turned it into a game. He would come down every day at dinner time and inspect what she had destroyed, shake his head, and then go on to conjure them a eatable dinner. The one time that she had managed to successfully make a small but delicious dinner, he had look pleasantly surprised and then proceeded to devour the meal. It had been the one meal that Belle had remembered watching her mother make for her father on their anniversary. So Belle continued her battle with the kitchen so that she could once again see the surprised look on her master’s face when she managed to get it right.

“No luck today then Dearie?” Rumpelstiltskin high-pitched giggle reaching into the very corners of the room.

Belle blushed as she defiantly faced him, daring him to say anymore. He simply shook his head as his magic reached out destroying the remnants of the latest attempt. Belle went to walk past him when Rumpelstiltskin put his hand out, Belle stopped startled at the warmth where he had laid his hand against her stomach. She looked up at him with a confused and flush face.

He nodded behind her; she turned and saw the feast that was laid out on a rich red rug in front of the fireplace. “I noticed that you have been getting cold when we sit upstairs, I thought tonight we might try to eat down here.” He seemed almost shy as he waited for her response; Belle gave him a wide grin as she looped her arm through his as they walked toward the fireplace.

As she settled down on the plush carpet, a pile of pillows supporting her back. She couldn’t help but feel as if she was finally home. She began to put together a plate for Rumpelstiltskin, his voice rising and falling with glee as he told her of his day and his deals. He then began to dig into his meal as she told him of her encounter with the singing clock on the third floor in the west wing, and her fight with the mop that didn’t want to be dunked in water. They went on this way for what felt like hours talking about everything and nothing. Belle sat back and just let it all wash over her; the feeling of safety and security running through her allowing her to relax. She did not really remember when she fell asleep; she only registered when she felt strong arms picking her up, and then the feeling of a soft bed under her. She could have sworn she felt warm dry lips brush her forehead.

 The small feeling that she had tried to ignore seemed to blossom in her chest and she was too tired and too drunk on her emotions fight it anymore; she loved him. This was three days before Rumpelstiltskin allowed her to go into the village for straw, before she met the Evil Queen on the road.

***

            CLANG

The roaring of the waterfall is deafening in the little cove that Belle has come to claim as her own; it is her favorite reading spot. Here she can sit back with a good book, losing herself in the story while enjoying the beauty around her, the soft winds as it blows through her hair, and the gentle sounds of wildlife around her. She comes here when Rumpelstiltskin is away, when the castle becomes unbearable in its silence, oppressive in its vastness.

 Belle is sitting in on an soft, warm blanket that she had found in one of the cupboards in the kitchen a book propped in her lap, as Rumpelstiltskin appears. She giggles as she marks her place in the book and asks how his deal went; he simply smiles as he makes a flourish in the air producing a bouquet of yellow roses. She smiles; taking them from him she plucks one from the bouquet and slides it through her hair and behind her ear.

CLANG

He holds his hand out with a flourish as he requests a dance, she bows to him as if they were in the king’s court and then glides into his arms. He sweeps her through the grass, the wind blowing through her hair, her squirts sweeping around them. Belle leans into him, rests her head on his shoulder and simply breathes in.

CLANG

The dance begins to pick up speed; he takes her to the very edge of the pool and dips her over until she shrieks in protest and holds him close; crying out for him not to drop her. He chuckles as he spins her round.

CLANG

He then sweeps her up into his arms and brings her back over to the blanket, settling against a rock that was not there before he places her in his lap. He then reaches into the air and produces a book, his usual gift when he returns from his travels. She eagerly she reaches out and reverently runs her along the book’s spine. She then stretches up to place a kiss on his cheek, watching as his cheek tint gold, what she has come to learn as the color of his blushes. She simply smiles as she settles down and begins to read to him.

CLANG

She cannot remember the story.

CLANG

She cannot remember his name.

CLANG

Belle looks up as she hears the daily announcement of her food, this time it is accompanied by the eyes of The Woman. Belle retrieves her food and tears another mark into the wall of her padded cell. She settles back down onto her cold, hard cot trying to pick up the pieces of where she left off in the cove. This has been her life for longer than she can remember, soon there will be no empty space left on the wall to mark the passage of time. All she has left is her memories, and the bone deep feeling that she must hold on. That there is someone out there who will find her; he haunts the corners of her cell in the morning, and lives in her dreams at night. She cannot remember who he is, but only knows that he loves her, that he will protect her; she just has to hold on for a little longer.

The doctor who comes to her cell every day tells her she is imagining things, that they are hallucinations brought on by her “condition”, though when she asks what “condition” she has he never answers her. So she holds onto her faith, and her memories.

CLANG

She knows the memories are real and they are the only thing that is keeping her sane.

 

***

Belle feet sink into the sand, her toes wiggling; a soft smile gracing her face as she rubs her hand over her small belly bump. She gazes out over the horizon, listening to waves crashes onto the shore, and soft spray of the sea washing over her body.

She never feels more free than when she stand in front of the sea, the smell of the ocean , the sound of the waves, and spray of the salty water  going a long way to remind her that she is no longer behind bars.

As she turns back she cannot help her smile from growing as she watches Rumple, or as he is called here Mr. Gold, sitting on the large picnic blanket they had brought; a young man sitting across from him a small tentative smile on his face as he talked with Rumple.

After the curse had been broken it had taken then almost 6 months before they had managed to find Baelfire. Through the use of what little magic this world had to offer Rumple was able to locate his son and this was the first time that they had actually seen each other in person. It had taken a lot of convincing before Bae would even stay on the phone long enough to hear Rumple’s explanation, it had taken an additional two months of phone calls and conversation before he had agreed to drive down.

Belle knew how nervous Rumple was and sought to try and ease the awkwardness that the long-awaited reunion would bring; the only thing she could think was appropriate was the idea of a family picnic. As she watched the two men she noticed how her husband could not seem to hold still, his right hand twitching, a nervous tic she had noticed when she had found him again. It denoted him holding back the desire to reach out and touch, assure him she was real and still there.

When Bae had shown up she had stepped away not wanting to detract from this reunion, and also not wanting to overwhelm him; she noticed how his gazed jumped from the moderately small engagement ring and wedding band (what a fight that had been between her and Rumple, with him only conceding when she declared her hand would weigh more than the rest of her body if he did not find a smaller diamond), to the noticeable baby bump that she could not stop rubbing.

She could see the tension easing in both of them as they sat there; the words seeming to flow between them easier, the smiles not quite as forced anymore. Then all of a sudden Rumple was beckoning her toward them, Bae smiled softly almost shyly and in that expression she could see a glimpse of her husband in him. She slowly walked toward them, Rumple standing up so that her could help lower her to ground (her center of gravity had really been off lately). She smiled gently at him, a gentle press of lips between them. She looked over to see a surprised but happy look on Bae’s face. She nodded at him and he returned the gesture of acceptance as Rumple had his back turned to retrieve the small picnic basket that she had packed that morning. Belle reached into the basket and pulled out her mom’s honeycakes that she had been able to make with her newly returned memories. Passing them out to her newly forming family, just as her mother had all those years ago; she settled against Rumple’s side as her reached around a protective hand laid against her belly, their child, as she looked to the new child she would welcome with open arms into their home. After this picnic Belle knew she would finally have the happy ending that she and her husband had fought so hard for.

 

 

The End


End file.
